


Clear White Path

by Roxxy



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cold Weather, First Kiss, Flirting, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Pre-Slash, Snow, Snowed In, Strangers to Lovers, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-06
Updated: 2014-11-06
Packaged: 2018-02-24 08:54:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2575574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roxxy/pseuds/Roxxy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim tilted his phone to the left, squinting through the veil of snowflakes, and tried reading the network bar. He yanked the phone to the right, then in between and all around, with the exact same results. His lips were numb and his skin protested whenever he made an expression of any kind. Jim dropped his phone into the pocket of his overcoat and yanked the hood of the jacket over his head.<br/>This couldn’t be happening to him. He had hand-picked, hand-tested this damn car – for hours. And now he was stuck here - wherever here was - in the middle of the night. In fuckin’ December, to top it all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome, person! If you're reading this, it means you somehow stumbled upon my first Star Trek fic. That's right. You've got the right to turn around if you want to, I won't judge you. At all. But it's my duty to point out that I actually happen to like this fic, and - judging from my previous writing experience on other websites - that happens... well, never.  
> In any case, enjoy. (And try not to let this shitty introduction ruin your reading pleasure.)

Jim tilted his phone to the left, squinting through the veil of snowflakes, and tried reading the network bar. He yanked the phone to the right, then in between and all around, with the exact same results.

“Shit!”

This wasn’t happening. It just wasn’t. It couldn’t be happening _to him_. He had hand-picked, hand-tested this damn car – for hours. He had a warranty and a pair of bags under his eyes to prove it. The car salesman was kind enough not to point it out, but he didn’t need to be told anyway – the salon had plenty of shiny surfaces. That’s why it pissed him off to no end to be stuck here – wherever _here_ was – in the middle of the night. In fuckin’ December, to top it all.

His lips were numb and his skin protested whenever he made an expression of any kind. Jim dropped his phone into the pocket of his overcoat and yanked the hood of the jacket over his head. Then he looked around.

At least the civilization was still there.

The snow covered road he found himself stuck on was splitting about a hundred feet from where he stood, and it apparently led to suburbs of some town, if the flickering dots and windows were anything to go by. He circled his car, opened the driver’s door and yanked the automatic, wheeling the vehicle to the left while he put all his strength into pushing it forward. A minute later, he had the car safely at the side of the road. Remotely locking the doors, Jim shoved his fists into his overcoat and crossed the slippery asphalt in the direction of the back road.

Somebody out there must have a phone.

 

A slow walk through the uncleared path brought him to a row of houses on each side of the road, and while they weren’t as densely lined up as in the big cities, they were close enough to each other, which meant at least one of them had to have a telephone of any kind.

The first one on the right side had the lights on in one of the front rooms, and Jim’s frozen feet made the decision easy for him. He trudged the path hidden by snowdrift and pulled out a stiff hand to knock on the door. After receiving no answer for some time, he was ready to curse and go to the next house – set to be far less polite than he was planning to be for this one – but just as he activated his muscles, the door lock jangled and the large wooden barrier squeakily gave way to warm air. A tall, dark haired man stood inside, looking curiously – and somewhat warily – at Jim.

“Yes?”

“Hi.” Jim swallowed the dried up saliva and gave out a courtesy smile. “I was wondering if I could borrow your phone. My car broke just down the road,” he gestured toward the direction he came from. “And I have no network. If I could maybe call the nearest mechanic or something, I’d be really—”

“I don’t think so, kid.” The man said, straightening up. The thick sweater he wore stretched over his broad frame.

Jim blinked.

“Wh—I won’t take long, I swear,” He added when he realized the man might be looking out for punks. “Look, you can watch me the whole time. I’ll even pay you, I don’t—”

“Save your frozen tongue, kid.” The man interrupted him, one eyebrow rising. “The only mechanic that lives close by is out for the weekend, so unless you can make calls to the future, I see no way my phone can assist you.”

“You’re shitting me!” Jim exclaimed, puffing out clouds of warm air. He held his hood with both hands, stomping a foot into the sand as much as he could. “This can’t be happening… shit. _Shit_.” He turned around, glancing at the other houses in vain.

“Hey,” The man said, and Jim turned his attention to him, rubbing one temple. “Don’t hope for network coverage. It often snaps during winter.” His eyes looked carefully into Jim’s. “It usually doesn’t come back for days.”

Jim closed his eyes and cursed under breath.

“Great.”

“Yeah.” His gaze followed the slideshow of Jim’s expressions. “You wanna come in for a drink? Your face seems to be having a Botox effect, and unless you’re a fan of that, I’d say you’re frozen inside.”

Jim blinked at him, not at all prepared to refuse.

“Yeah… yeah. Uh, thanks.”

The man moved aside, and Jim stepped into the house, wiping his boots off the thick doormat. The doors shut closed and he pulled the hood from his head, then brushed the snowflakes off his overcoat. Rubbing his palms against each other, he took in the surroundings.

He was standing in what was supposed to be a hallway, but was in fact an open plan floor, with a living room on the left, and a dining room on the right. The left side was dimly lit by a lamp in the near corner and a large fireplace at the other end of the room.

Jim stood in place until the man gestured toward the sitting area, and then helped himself to the armchair.

“Let’s get something to heat you up,” the man said, walking toward a kitchen divided from the living room by a wall. The sound of a cabinet opening was followed by a gruff voice. “Scotch? If not, I might have some bourbon lying around…”

“Uh, thanks, but I don’t drink.” Jim said.

The man stepped backwards until he came into view. He sent a weird glance Jim’s way.

“Well then.” He disappeared again. “I might have some tea. I think.”

“Tea would be nice, thank you.”

Jim rubbed his chilled palms together, glancing around the comfortably furnished room. On either one of his sides there was a two-seat sofa, colored in warm pastels, and opposed to his armchair, at the farther end of the room, sat a wide fireplace, topped with a flat-screen TV and a few messily arranged books right next to it.

“Your TV doesn’t work?” Jim asked.

A hand with a tea cup appeared in his sight and Jim took it with a nod.

“Thank you. I mean, it’s not on, so I assumed…” He trailed off.

The man sent him another indecipherable glance before sitting on one of the sofas and picking up an open book from the coffee table.

“I rarely watch it.” He said with his eyebrows up in a way of explanation. “Sit over here,” He gestured toward the place across from him. “You’ll turn into an ice cube there.”

Jim blinked and nodded, walking over to the indicated spot. The warm licks of fire stroked his left side the moment he sat down and he wriggled in his seat, holding the tea cup in one hand.

“So how come you don’t watch TV? I’d wanna know about these snow storms if I lived around here.” He took a sip of the tea and shuddered at the heat trickling down his throat. When the man raised his dark gaze from the book, Jim leaned over the coffee table with an outstretched hand, regretfully thinking it must be moist and warm from holding the cup. “I’m Jim, by the way.”

The man eyed him for another second, before taking his hand in a brief, but firm grip.

“Leonard McCoy.” He jerked his head toward the TV. “The remote’s up there. Help yourself.”

Jim placed the teacup on the table and walked over to the fireplace, closing his eyes once the heat fired up his overcoat. He spotted the remote control, then reached out for it and reluctantly returned to his place on the sofa. Once he sat down, he realized that the man – Leonard – had been watching him all the while.

“You hungry?”

Not waiting for a reply, his host stood up from the sofa, then disappeared into the kitchen again.

“Uh… sure.” Jim mumbled to himself, picking up the tea cup again and drinking from it. He pointed the remote at the TV and welcomed the new layer of sound that spread out through the room. A neatly clothed reporter held her earpiece with one hand as the wind brushed away her auburn hair. He pressed the volume button and she assumed a voice.

_“…regions, the storm won’t be over for another twenty hours, at least. More reports are coming in as we speak. Michael, what’s the situation up north?”_

_“Good evening, Marina. We are unsure of the conditions as of yet, but several calls have been made to the local health centers, nothing severe as far as we are told. In a couple of hours, there should be—”_

“Hope you’re not allergic to hazelnut,” Leonard said as he emerged from the kitchen, carrying a plate of what seemed to be cookies. TV forgotten, Jim’s nose tuned to the smell of food and he gave half a smile.

“I’m not... And thanks,” Jim added when the plate was set in front of him. Turning down the volume, he left the remote on the table and picked up a cookie. A grunt left his throat as he bit into it. “Shit. Did you make these?” He placed a hand in front of his mouth and mumbled: “…amazing.”

“If by _me_ you mean _Avery’s_ , then yes.” Leonard said, legs crossed and an amused expression on his face. The faintest of smirks rested on his lips and Jim found himself staring, having already pegged the man for eternally cranky. Then the words registered in his mind and he blinked, trying to catch up.

The smirk dropped from Leonard’s face.

“It’s a local… bakery. Never mind.” He waved a hand in front of himself, then picked up the discarded book once again. Jim observed as he turned a page, a frown forming on his brow. Probably unconsciously, the man bit into his bottom lip, and Jim watched the crimson flesh drag through teeth.

As if feeling the gaze on his body, Leonard raised his head and popped an eyebrow up.

“What?”

Jim shook his head, realizing a cookie lay forgotten in his hand. He stuffed it into his mouth and washed it down with lukewarm tea.

“I’m just trying to figure you out.”

That eyebrow rose even higher.

“Trying to figure me out.”

“Mhm”, Jim said as he leaned back, swallowing another cookie. “You’ve gotta be a… teacher of sorts or… nah.” He made a grimace and shook his head. “You’re not a teacher.” He tilted his head to the side and snuggled further in his seat. “Maybe—”

“Try doctor,” Leonard supplied with a tilt of his head. He crossed his arms over his chest, effectively ignoring the book on his lap.

Jim slammed his fist into the other palm, leaning forward once more.

“I knew it!”

Leonard sent him a _give-me-a-break_ look.

“The hell you did.”

“No, really, that was gonna be my next guess.” Jim said, delighted to be having a real conversation with the man. “You have that… caretaker vibe. You know?”

Leonard sent him an unimpressed glance.

“Whatever you say, kid.” He moved the book aside, then leaned over and picked up a cookie for himself. “You learn anything useful?” He asked, breaking the cookie in half. He popped one part into his mouth, then nodded briefly toward the TV.

“Uh, not really. Only that the storm is around for another day, at least.” He made a semi-apologetic face. “But don’t worry, I’ll be outta your hair soon.” He added with both palms up. “The guy should be here soon anyway, and then I’ll just go back on the road.”

Leonard snorted.

“Did you not hear what I said before? He won’t be here till Monday. And that’s under _if_ , seeing how the weather’s going berserk.”

Jim tapped his knees.

“Oh, well. I’ll just try to find a B&B. There’s gotta be one ‘round here, right?”

“Yeah,” Leonard confirmed; his eyebrows up again. “But God knows if they’re open in these conditions. ‘sides, they’ll slap your ears so hard you won’t be eating for a month, let alone driving around.”

“That bad, huh?” Jim asked with a smile.

“You don’t wanna know.”

“So…” Jim glanced at the TV, then back at his host. “I gotta stay with you, is that what you’re saying?”

Leonard’s expression straightened.

“You don’t _gotta_ do anything, kid. As far as I’m concerned, you might go back to your car, tuck yourself in and nap until you run out of oxygen, or the battery runs out and you’re left with 14 degrees and no AC to fire it up. So suit yourself.”

A grin spilled across Jim’s features.

“You wouldn’t that to me. You’ve got too much of that mother-hen thing going on.” At Leonard’s glare, he grinned wider. “Besides… I didn’t mean it would be _torture_ to stay here. I just didn’t wanna impose.” He wiped the smirk off and hoped his face conveyed sincerity.

“Yeah, sure, kid.” Leonard sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. “Come with me. There’s a spare room you could huddle in.”

Jim followed him to the back of the house, where a dark painted door held a moderately furnished bedroom, with a thick white rug and a lush looking duvet covering the bed.

“Up to your standards, princess?”

Jim smirked at the sarcastic tone – and the interesting accent with which the newly acquired nickname was said with – and then made eye-contact with Leonard.

“That depends. Do I get a foot massage?”

Leonard’s unamused expression deepened, if possible, and Jim’s heart skipped a beat.

“That depends. Do I get a breakfast?” Leonard asked half-heartedly.

“You got it.”

Leonard shook his head and returned to the living room, muttering something under his breath. Jim smiled and shrugged out of his overcoat, then draped it over the small desk in the bedroom. He followed Leonard into the living room and sat down in the same place as before.

“So, what’s your deal, good man?” He asked once they were both seated.

“By which, you mean…?”

“I mean, taking me in like this. Aren’t you afraid of robbers? Psychopaths? … _Spies?_ ”

Leonard sent him another unimpressed look.

“Are you any of those things?” He said out of protocol. One elbow came to lay on the armrest, fingers supporting his temple.

“Not that I know of. But you couldn’t tell just by looking at me, earlier.”

“By golly. Now _what_ makes you think _that_?”

Jim let out a chuckle.

“Uh, ‘cause you’re not a psychic?”

Leonard sighed and rubbed his eyes with the same hand that held his temple.

“I don’t know, kid. You looked like a lost puppy. Guess I took my chances.” He jerked one shoulder. “Couldn’t leave you out in the snow.”

Jim observed him for a few moments before clearing his throat.

“So, how come you’re not at the health center? Or whatever you got up here.”

Leonard studied him for a few moments, and just when Jim thought he wouldn’t get an answer, the other man spoke.

“I’m not employed at the moment.”

Jim nodded. Prying didn’t seem like the best course of action at the moment.

“What about you?” Leonard asked.

“Me? Uh,” Jim rubbed the stubble appearing on his chin. “I’m a consultant at Rostov&Minkovski. It’s a—”

“I’ve heard of Rostov&Minkovski, kid. I don’t live under a rock, you know.”

“Huh. Could’ve fooled me.” He said with the most dazzling smile he could put out. Leonard retorted with a glare of his own, and Jim grinned. The man had a charming way about him, despite being Mr. Crankypants, and Jim found himself enjoying the process of dragging out that side.

“So, you always work on Saturdays or is this a one-time thing?”

“Not really. I was actually headed to a friend’s house tonight…” Jim licked his lips before continuing, eyes trained on the other man’s. “She is a partner of the firm, but… this was supposed to be a social call.”

When Leonard’s back straightened in his seat and his eyebrows scrunched up only slightly, Jim’s heart slapped up again.

“I see. Instead, you got to socialize with a tired old doctor. Over tea, on top of that.” His eyebrows rose again as he leaned forward to grab his book again. “Sorry about that, kid.”

Jim couldn’t stop the grin that stretched his cheeks. He watched as the other man scowled and dove into his book.

“Well, if I had ended up with a tired old doctor, I might’ve been out in the snow by now, taking my chances.” Leonard was burning a hole through the pages, and Jim watched for his reaction. “But since I’m stuck with a handsome young one, I’m not complaining that much.”

Leonard looked up and Jim could swear his cheeks reddened. That made him delightfully giddy inside.

“I already promised you a place to sleep, kid. There’s no need for crawling up my ass.”

Jim raised his palms.

“I’d never do that without taking you out to a proper dinner first.”

Leonard huffed out a breath, shaking his head. His forefinger and thumb met at the root of his nose.

“Jesus Christ, kid. I’m starting to think I should’ve left you to skin yourself at the B&B.”

“Glad you didn’t. I prefer to skin in a comfortable environment.”

Leonard looked at him incredulously. Jim felt himself blushing, but the things he had said couldn’t be taken back.

“So, am I keeping you up?” He asked, rubbing his palms.

Leonard sighed and stood up, leaving the book on the table.

“I’d like to say ‘no’, but it’s been a long day. If you don’t mind, kid…” He trailed off.

“No. Not at all. I’ll help you with the dishes.”

“You can just pop them in the sink. I’ll wash ‘em in the morning.”

“No, man. I can do it.” He cut off Leonard’s path and strolled over to the kitchen, slipping the plate with a couple of cookies to the side. He tore off a few layers from the roll of paper towels and covered the cookies, then placed his cup into the sink. Warm water rushed out of the pipe, and he bathed the cup in the stream before leaving it aside.

Feeling eyes on his back, Jim twisted his head around. Leonard was watching him, one forearm up on the wall. He seemed amused, suspicious and perhaps a little bit complacent.

“I wasn’t gonna steal your toaster, I swear.”

Leonard snorted with the barest of smiles and shook his head.

“C’mon, I’ll show you where the spare clothes are.”

Jim shut off the tap, and then whistled as he reached for another sheet from the roll of paper towels.

“Wow. I get a full experience, huh?” He crumpled the paper and tossed it into the bin by the fridge.

Leonard sent him another funny glare, already retreating from the kitchen. Jim followed.

“Depends on what you consider full experience,” he murmured.

“Well—” Jim started, but Leonard cut him off with a hand in the air.

“Don’t push it, kid.”

Jim smiled.

“Whatever you say, doc.”

“Here you’ve got some pants and sweaters,” Leonard said as they reached the bedroom and he opened the dark closet with a creak. “Hope they won’t be too much of an issue,” He added, giving Jim a once-over.

“I’m sure I’ll manage. Lis’n—”

“Right here,” Leonard opened the door by the closet. “Is the bathroom. I use mine, so this one should be clean. There’s thermal heating, so you don’t have to worry about hot water. If you need anything, I’m across the hall. Oh, and you gotta yank a bit harder to flush the toilet. That’s about it... I think.” He nodded once as if to reaffirm what he had said.

Jim returned the gesture and watched him retreat from the room. Once he was about to close the door behind him, Jim called out. Leonard turned.

“Isn’t this… convenient?” He asked with a smile, glancing around the wood-plated walls and ceiling.

“Excuse me?”

“I mean, all this. Kind of like, if I was in a movie, this would be a typical plot twist.”

Leonard regarded him for barely a second.

“The snow’s still out there, kid. If you don’t like it here, might as well change the environment.”

“No, no.” Jim put his hand up. “What I meant to say was: thank you. It just… didn’t come out right.”

“Yeah...” Leonard murmured half-heartedly. “Whatever. Goodnight, kid.”

The door creaked and then Jim was alone. He dropped his ass to the bed and glanced around.

“Great social skills, Kirk.”

The room felt comfortable and warm, with no leftover items from a previous occupant, and Jim was grateful for that. He would hate having to stumble onto things that didn’t belong to him.

Rubbing his eyes with his knuckles, he sighed and went to the bathroom. Hopefully the night held some sleep for him.


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The house was much brighter than the previous night. All things taken into account, there were quite a few windows around, and he believed that if the house had been built in a warmer area, its insides would be permanently painted in yellow and orange. The sun rays filtering through the blinds were probably a rare occurrence, so Jim walked to the window to let more of it in. All he encountered, however, were layers of snow, covering perhaps two thirds of the glass. Above, sunlight tried to come through.

With the house owner absent and the first rays of rare sunlight streaming through the blinds, Jim had a clear path for snooping around. Not that he planned on doing much of it, but since his host seemed to be a fan of sleeping in, he thought there was no harm in taking a better look at his surroundings.

The house was much brighter than the previous night. All things taken into account, there were quite a few windows around, and he believed that if the house had been built in a warmer area, its insides would be permanently painted in yellow and orange. The sun rays filtering through the blinds were probably a rare occurrence, so Jim walked to the window to let more of it in. All he encountered, however, were layers of snow, covering perhaps two thirds of the glass. Above, sunlight tried to come through.

He shut the blinds once more and walked over to the now peaceful fireplace. With thermal heating in the house, he wondered why Leonard had the fire on the previous night. The same stack of books lay by the TV, with a remote control resting on the other side. There were no pictures, no Christmas decoration or personalized items. In fact, the room looked like it was just dragged out of a catalogue and made into a three-dimensional home.

Jim walked across the inexistent hallway to the other part of the ground floor, the area hosting a large dining table. Rounded edges added a sophisticated note to the polished wood, but the table itself seemed unused. There was perhaps a day-old layer of dust on it, but not unlike like the sitting area, it looked way too immaculate.

Jim strolled over to his bedroom door – across from which was the door to Leonard’s – and realized that was the only part of the house which seemed like a classic corridor. On one side of it, there was a staircase leading to what looked like a hatch to an attic of sorts.

He bit his lip and stuffed both hands into the slightly baggy jeans he picked up from the closet in his assigned room.

Turning on his heel, he walked over to the secluded kitchen, which was separated from the living room by a single wall, with no doors on either side of it. He opened the fridge and was pleased to find out that unlike the other two rooms, it was three quarters full and quite domestic looking. He had no idea what Leonard ate for breakfast, but seeing as he couldn’t actually go and wake up the man, whatever he chose would have to do.

He pulled out whichever items he could find potentially useful and set them on the counter. Resting his hands on the edge, he squinted at the groceries, then grabbed an artichoke and put it back into the fridge, along with a bag of lemons and a jar of hazelnut cream. He opened the cabinet above the furnace, then two more, until he found a loaf of whole-wheat bread. He pulled out a knife from the largest drawer and sliced up a portion, then popped the rest back into the cabinet. Drawing forward the toaster with one hand, he unrolled the pack of ham with the other, and then sought out the cheese. Aligning the pieces atop each other, he placed them into the toaster and turned back to the vegetables on the counter.

Pulling out a shallow plastic bowl from one of the cabinets and a wooden plate from the other, he peeled two cucumbers and sliced up several tomatoes, then poured them into the wooden plate. He turned to toss the peel to the trash can but stopped when he caught sight of a disheveled figure clad in a thick bathrobe.

“What are you doing?”

Jim took in the man’s morning appearance. Dark hair fell over his forehead in a careless way and his lips were still swollen from sleep. Jim’s face quickly assumed a grin.

“Morning.” He emptied the bowl with the peel and placed it on the counter. “As you can see, I keep my promises.”

When Leonard kept looking at him in a weird way, Jim smiled and grabbed an onion from the counter.

“I said I’d make you breakfast last night, didn’t I?”

Leonard observed him for another second before his shoulder dropped against the wall and he rubbed his face. A tangle of words left his mouth but Jim couldn’t make them out.

“I don’t know what you like to eat, so I took my liberties and made something.” He looked at Leonard over his shoulder. “Why don’t you go sit and relax, and I’ll be there in a moment.”

Each of Leonard’s expressions was even more conspicuous in his current state, and Jim wondered just how much it took for the man to let all of his barriers down. Eventually, he made a face somewhere between _how-is-this-my-life_ and _why-do-I-even-bother_ , but still walked out of sight.

Jim smiled all the way through the process of chopping an onion. Rummaging through the fridge proved fruitful, and several minutes – and toaster greetings – later, he walked out of the kitchen and to the coffee table. Hands full with plates, he was glad Leonard waited for him in the living-room. The dining table still seemed estranged.

“I should take in strangers more often,” Leonard commented in a gruff, but amused voice as Jim placed a plate of steaming toast sandwiches in front of him. “What’s that?” He pointed at the wooden plate containing something similar to a summer salad.

“Just something my mom used to make for me. It’s Greek, I think.” Jim placed two mugs on the table. As he turned to the kitchen, Leonard gripped his forearm.

“Wait—”

Jim looked at him.

“Yeah?”

Leonard’s eyebrows scrunched up a little.

“What were you gonna get?”

Jim’s posture relaxed and he curled a corner of his mouth, ever aware of the heat the hand on his arm provided.

“Hot cocoa.”

Leonard pulled his hand away and Jim cleared his throat.

“If that doesn’t work for you, I could—”

“No, it’s okay. I get a bit hostile in the mornings. Just sit down and leave the damn cocoa alone. And thank you,” He added when Jim sat down.

“No need to thank me. You saved me from that horrible B&B, remember?”

Leonard glanced at him, then after a second snorted softly.

“Yeah. Wonder why I did that.”

Jim wanted to continue teasing him, but Leonard reached out and grabbed a toast sandwich from the pile. His face assumed several different expressions as he bit into it.

“Goodness gracious…”

Jim’s lips parted and a grin spilled across his features, followed by a barely contained chuckle. Leonard sent him a glare, still chewing.

“ _Holy shit._ What you just heard was: _holy shit._ ” Then he resumed eating.

Jim leaned back in his armchair, unable to wipe the smile from his face.

“Well that settles the ‘ _where were you born’_ question.”

“Watch it, kid.”

“No, hey,” Jim raised a palm. “I’m just curious.”

“Oh yeah? Where are you from?” Jim watched as a drop of melted cheese slid down Leonard’s chin. Before he could think it through, he leant forward and wiped it with his thumb. Leonard looked at him like a deer that was just caught in the headlights.

“You just had a…” Jim waved the cheese drop around, his throat constricted. In another scenario, with a girl from his office or something, Jim could see himself licking the drop from his own finger with a teasing smirk, but right now, he was too freaked out. His heart leapt up into his mouth and he wiped the cheese against the rim of the plate.

Leonard still observed him with a gaze Jim couldn’t decipher.

“I, uh, I’m from Iowa.” He wiped his palms against his— _Leonard’s_ —jeans and leaned forward on his elbows. “I left quite early, and, uh, found my way around the city until I was—”

“Are those olives?”

Jim blinked and glanced in the direction of Leonard’s finger.

“Yeah. You had them in the fridge, so I assumed you liked them.” Jim swallowed. This wasn’t supposed to be so awkward, why was it awkward—

“I do.” Leonard pulled one of the forks from the side of the wooden plate and stabbed into the salad. A moment before the bundle entered his mouth, he glanced at Jim. One of his expressive eyebrows went up. “Should I be worried that you ain’t eating?”

  Jim blinked, and then let out a heavy breath through a chuckle.

“Uh, no.” He grabbed the other fork and helped himself to the bowl.

“You’re not bad, kid.” Leonard commented after nearly a minute of eating in silence. “Where’d you learn to cook?”

“Well, as I said, I left home pretty early, so it was either the cooking thing or stomach cancer by the time I was 18.”

Leonard nodded, tongue working something in an upper corner of his mouth. His eyes scanned Jim all over again, as if he was reevaluating him. Eventually he smirked.

“Can’t go wrong saying that to a doctor, now can you?” He stabbed into the salad again.

“Guess not.” Jim picked up a sandwich and took a bite. He poured the crumbs from his palm to the plate. “Hey, you want me to help you shovel later?”

Leonard snorted.

“Ain’t no shovelin’ here until February, kid.”

Jim licked a stained fingertip before popping the last part of the sandwich into his mouth.

“How do you people go to work, then?” He mumbled through the food in his mouth. “Or the grocery store? Just… generally… outside?”

“Well,” Leonard mused while he was chewing. “You go to the closet,” he raised a hand to demonstrate the direction. “Get some glue on yourself. Roll around in whichever clothes you can find – the thicker the better.” He twisted his hand. “Then you walk outside and pray to Lord those ice-skating lessons from when you were a kid pay off. Otherwise, you’re fucked.”

There was vibrancy in his eyes when he spoke, so Jim swallowed the bite and chuckled.

“Wow.”

“Or in my case,” Leonard added. “You just pray to Lord. ‘Cause I had no goddamn ice-skating lessons, and I sure as hell don’t know any close-by doctors, except me, of course. So you pray _really_ hard. What?”

Jim was on the verge of asking that question back, when he realized he’d been looking at the other man with a dazed smile on his face.

“Nothing. You just have a vivid way of storytelling. I like it.”

Leonard snorted really quietly.

“In any case, kid, ain’t no shoveling you and me can do today.” He rose from the couch and picked up one of the plates, but Jim stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“I’ll do it.”

“Well, I’ll be damned.” He sat back down. “You should’ve broken down your car way sooner, kid.”

“I know,” Jim said, carrying the plates. When he glanced back over his shoulder, Leonard was looking at him curiously. He slid into the kitchen and dropped the plates to the counter.

“…feel like I’m about to pop,” He heard the other man mumble thickly. “Your food dragged me outta my routine; I didn’t even get a chance to shower. Sorry about that, just in case.”

Jim smiled and stuck his head out.

“No need for worry. You smell of freshly cut grass in the spring time,” He said with a wide smile, enjoying the glare he got in return. “And a little manly musk, if you want your ego stroked.”

Leonard murmured something, but Jim was already in the sink.

“What was that?” He asked, but the other man waved him off and disappeared out of sight.

 

*

 

When Jim was safely out of the kitchen and freshly showered himself, he decided to try and see if he can get some network coverage, if only for the record. Knowing he had at least tried would make a soothing excuse later. Truth was: he liked it here at Leonard’s. He pretended it was just circumstances and that he couldn’t wait to go home, but under all that, he liked the warmth that the place radiated.

He yanked his overcoat atop the thick – awfully colored – sweater he currently wore and strolled purposefully through the house. The heavy wooden door creaked in a subdued way and gave in, letting him out into the cheek pinching cold. He squinted at the snowflakes and shielded his eyes with a hand. Closing the door behind him, he pulled out his phone.

“You really don’t listen, do ya, kid?”

He raised his head and startled himself with the question of how he didn’t see Leonard sooner.

“I thought you said no shoveling till February,” Jim retorted through the howling of the wind, watching Leonard scrape snow from the window with a long tool.

“Does this look like a shovel to you? Have you even seen a shovel, for that matter?” That eyebrow popped up even under the black winter cap. Jim squinted harder, feeling his nose get number by each second.

“I’ll have you know I’m not some pampered snob who’s been fed off a golden spoon.” He said, then pushed his phone back into one of the overcoat’s pockets, his fists following.

“Didn’t think you were,” Leonard replied with strain, grabbing the other tool – which did look like a shovel – and scraping the snow from the house with it. “Ain’t my business either way.”

“I do listen, too.” Jim said, surprising himself by the offense he took from Leonard’s assumptions. He wasn’t supposed to care what some stranger who’d offered a hand thought of him. “I came out here to check for service, just in case. Three times cut, and all that.”

Beads of sweat that must’ve been turning into ice got swept from Leonard’s forehead with a simple stroke.

“Good idea.”

Jim’s gaze slid down to where the man’s rubber boots were buried half way in the snow. Then he licked his parched lips.

“The storm is supposed to be over in a couple of hours,” he heard himself say through the wind. “I’ll grab my stuff and be out of your way as soon as it dies down.” Dread settled in his guts at his own words, and the realization only caused more confusion and frustration.

Leonard snorted and swept up the final round, setting the shovel in place.

“Like hell you will.”

He strolled over to the front door, shovel in hand, and Jim watched him stop at the door step, hand on the knob.

“When I said I had thermal heating, kid, I didn’t mean I was willing to share it with the entire town.”

Jim blinked, then followed, unable to stop a small smile from appearing. Leonard strolled through the house and disappeared out of sight, probably getting rid of the shovel. Jim shrugged off his overcoat and carried it to the closet in his room, then stood in the middle of the house, waiting for the other man.

“I thought we were past the ‘sit down’ pleasantries.” A typical eyebrow regarded him as its owner came into sight, wearing a dark blue sweater and a significantly improved hair wave atop his forehead.

“I should probably go check up on my car, you know. By now, the wires must’ve—”

“By now, your car’s a part of the scenery,” Leonard commented as he sat down on one of the sofas, picking up a magazine from under the coffee table. He crossed his legs and dropped it on his lap. “Don’t be surprised if it starts growing roots under the snow.”

Jim inhaled firmly, sliding both hands into the jeans’ pockets.

“Guess I should’ve seen it coming, huh?” He walked over to the sitting area and placed his assets into the armchair, somehow feeling more comfortable there than directly across from Leonard. “As soon as it broke down, despite all the warranties, I—”

“Yeah… sorry ‘bout that, kid. You’ve strayed into hell by coming here,” Leonard interjected. His eyes crinkled as he studied Jim for another moment. “You can check out any time you like, but—”

“…you can never leave.” They finished in unison, then smiled at each other.

“Something like that,” Leonard said quietly. Jim squeezed out a sigh, his gaze never leaving the other man’s. There was something warm in Leonard’s brown eyes, a shadow of coziness and passion that somehow stayed hidden under the external layer – the one he used to keep constant distance.

He cleared his throat and averted his gaze, pulling the magazine tighter to his lap.

“So. I could help you clean your car, later. If you want. The snow should cease falling for a short while; then we can try and do something.” He flipped a page and Jim regretfully deduced that the barrier was back up again.

“No,” he said. “What good would it do? It couldn’t start yesterday and today isn’t any better. Unless,” Jim’s eyes widened slightly. “I mean, if you want me out of your way, we can go, of course—we can go right now, I—”

“For cryin’ out loud, kid.” Leonard snapped the magazine down. “Were you constantly shooed away or something when you were little?” He let out a frustrated, yet restrained breath. “Goddammit.” A hand swept through his dark hair. “I don’t mind having you here. It’s not like I have much to do under these conditions, or is it not obvious?”

Warmth cracked the ice over Jim’s chest and he smiled, the gesture prolonging when he noticed the slight blush on Leonard’s cheeks.

“Yeah, okay. But—”

“Stop being so attentive,” Leonard growled. “Now; are you hungry? It’s past lunch time and it’s gonna be dark here soon.”

Jim allowed the smile that lurked underneath the surface to spill across his face.

“Only if I get to cook it.”

“You don’t get to cook it. And have a little faith in my cooking skills, will ya? You haven’t seen what I can do just yet.” Leonard rose from the couch and slid out toward the kitchen. “Any preferences?”

Jim leaned into the armchair, and then rubbed his stomach with a faraway look in his eyes.

“Hmm. I don’t know what consumed more of my energy; the phone holding or the walking through the door.” He scratched his chin. “I’ll have to get back to you on that…”

Leonard grabbed a square cushion from the sofa and hit Jim in the face with it, making him laugh in a choked manner.

“When I said ‘stop being attentive’, I didn’t mean ‘become a wiseass’. Now you’re getting whatever I decide to make.” He shook his head as he went into the kitchen, and Jim watched him retreat. A sigh shuddered through his chest and he laid both hands on the armrests, cozying into the seat.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t deliberately poison me.”

“Really.” The voice from the kitchen murmured.

“Positive. You’re a doctor. You’ve got that… Hippocratic Oath.” Jim wiggled his fingers absentmindedly.

“Precisely, kid.” A clank of cutlery came through. “Now imagine how many different ways of killing someone I have at my disposal.”

Jim smirked, then snorted loudly enough for Leonard to hear.

“You expect me to believe that? You’re just a giant teddy bear is what you are. Doesn’t take years to figure that out.”

“Keep pushing my buttons and you’ll die the most specific death you can imagine. Then you’ll be able to brag about your unique experience in hell.”

“Aw, you wound me, man.” Jim placed a hand on his heart even though Leonard was out of sight. “What have I done so horrible that gets me into hell?”

A head poked out of the kitchen.

“You’re resting your feet on my coffee table, for starters.”

Jim curled his legs back and grinned semi-apologetically. Leonard vanished again, along with his glare.

“You seriously don’t want any help?”

“If you ask that again, I’m gonna do my best to make a delicacy out of your viscera.”

“…and there goes my appetite.” Jim exclaimed with a grimace. A moment later, his grin returned when he heard quiet laughter in the kitchen.

“Good,” Leonard retorted. “Less work for me.”

Jim relaxed in the armchair, pleasant warmth settling in his stomach. The fire was on again – probably started while he was hanging his coat – and the familiar scent of burning wood slowly crept up to his nostrils. Tilting his head, he stood up and walked over to the leafy plant by the fireplace, having caught sight of a gadget hidden behind it.

“Hey, you got music here?” He asked when he recognized the device as a stereo.

“So the legend says,” Leonard called out. “Help yourself.”

Jim crouched and tinkered with the player. Curious about the type of music Leonard liked, he took a chance and played a random selection. Increasing the volume a few notches, he let the pleasant tones envelop the room. Satisfied with his work, he walked through the room, getting a feel of the atmosphere.

“You have a nice house,” he said, hooking his hands into the back pockets of his jeans.

“I guess,” came the reply. The sounds of something sizzling overlapped with the clinking dishes.

Jim walked step by step, coming closer to the kitchen.

“It’s… cozy. ‘s got that family vibe.”

The clinking stopped, leaving the sizzling food as the only other noise breaking through the music. Jim stopped in his tracks, eyes trained on Leonard’s frozen back.

Frightened that he’d finally crushed through the man’s defenses – and not in a good way – Jim opened his mouth to apologize, but Leonard turned around and gestured toward the living room. His gaze was unfocused, contrasting the tightness of his quiet voice.

“Go sit over there. I’ll be out in a minute.”

Jim just nodded, ignoring the tight ball in his throat.

“I’ll just go wash my hands first,” he informed the other man, already retreating to his room.

“Yeah, you do that.” Leonard whispered.

 

Glancing at his own reflection in the mirror, Jim blinked a few times, then rubbed his face with damp hands.

Maybe he was poking the wrong bear. Leonard didn’t want to share personal details and that was fine. It wasn’t Jim’s business, anyway. He was in a stranger’s house, already welcomed and accepted for the time required. There was no need for bonding or pretending that he cared about the man’s life or the man himself.

Jim grabbed a few paper towels and dried his face.

The problem was: he wasn’t pretending to care.


	3. III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leonard grinned in a completely different way and Jim felt his throat constrict, but not out of the same reasons as before. Warmth spread through his chest as he realized he might’ve poked into the special place where Leonard was free, or at least more so than he usually was. It was a flattering thought.

The raspy voice of Neil Young shattered the silence as Jim exited his bedroom. A sweet aroma of chicken drifted to his nose and he inched toward it until he reached the living room, where Leonard already sat, sipping coffee into a dark mug.

“Already done? What’d you make? Smells great.” He rolled up his sleeves and sat on the edge of the armchair – the spot he began considering as his.

“Haven’t thought up a name for it,” Leonard said, taking the lid off a shallow container. Steam rushed out, uncovering a pair of crisp-crusted chops of chicken.

“If it’s half as good as my nose thinks it is, you’ve done a good job,” Jim commented.

“I’d say,” Leonard mumbled with the faintest of smiles. “You’re drooling.”

“Totally aren’t.” Jim said with certainty. His gaze fell on a bowl of leisurely seasoned salad. “I do appreciate the visual stimuli of food, however.”

Leonard snorted.

“Sell that bullshit to someone else, kid.” With the help of two spoons, he unloaded large portions of salad into their plates, followed by chicken chops.

“I lied. I appear to be pretty hungry.” Jim said without guilt, stabbing into a small broccoli tree. He groaned at the spices.

“I don’t have any bread, though,” Leonard said, rolling a carrot chunk on his plate. “Unless you want the one we ate this morning. It’s two-days old.”

Jim shook his head and made a ‘perfect’ gesture with his hand.

“Why am I not surprised to find broccoli, green beans… uh, what is this, kale—in a doctor’s house?”

Leonard pulled a magazine from beneath his ass and tossed it to the other end of the sofa.

“French fries ain’t gonna cut it, kid. ‘sides, this time of the year, you’re lucky I didn’t have sock soup as main course.”

Jim snorted through a chuckle, then cleared his throat.

“What’s with the disgusting comparisons, man? I’m trying to eat here.” He swallowed the bite, then grinned at Leonard, glad that the atmosphere seemed to be returning to pleasant territory. He resumed eating, this time with more enthusiasm.

“This _was_ a family house.”

Jim raised his head from his food. Leonard was rolling the fork through his plate. He had a determined and focused expression on his face. Something tightened in Jim’s throat.

“Hey, you don’t have to—”

“It’s alright. There’s nothing out of the ordinary to tell, anyway.” Leonard dropped the fork and picked up one of the mugs, then passed it on to Jim. He grabbed the other one. “My wife lived here before, and the _coziness_ you mention is probably her doing.” He rolled the cup in his hands, as if trying to decide from which end to drink.

Jim observed the clusters of steam rise and mold to the shape of Leonard’s face.

“When she left, she took everything with her, including Joanna and…” He glanced around the room, making an unamused expression. “The family vibe.”

“Who’s Joanna?” Jim asked, stabbing into the chicken.

Leonard snapped out of his musings.

“Oh. She’s my daughter.”

The fork with a bundle of leaves and meat stopped in front of Jim’s mouth.

“You have a daughter?”

“Yeah.” Leonard gave a lopsided smile. “She’s six.”

“Wow.” Jim mumbled, letting the fork rest in his plate. Rewinding the film with that information at hand, he believed he now had the answer to several of his earlier questions. Stabbing a slice of cucumber, Jim asked: “What’s she like?”

Leonard glanced his way, before bowing his head in a nearly bashful way. He stared at his mug.

“She’s beautiful. Very smart and perceptive. My temper.” He smirked and then looked at Jim again, expression straightening. “She’s got dark hair, like I do, and...”

“Oh, so she’s a total heartbreaker, then?”

Leonard grinned in a completely different way and Jim felt his throat constrict, but not out of the same reasons as before. Warmth spread through his chest as he realized he might’ve poked into the special place where Leonard was free, or at least more so than he usually was. It was a flattering thought.

“…and she’s got blue eyes, like you.”

Jim closed his mouth and pretended a piece of carrot wasn’t stuck in his throat.

“I’m sure they’re prettier than mine,” He said with a small snort, picking up his mug and bringing it to his lips. The scent of cinnamon brushed against his nose and he took a sip. Leonard observed him even though Jim’s gaze was on the coffee table.

“Actually, they’re greener than yours.”

Jim looked at him.

“Yours are more azure, I think.”

Their gazes met.

Leonard shut his mouth with the cup, gulping down hot coffee.

“I love this song,” Jim said, frowning at his own topic distraction.

Leonard nodded and placed down the mug.

“Pretty off-stream, but I like it.”

“You’ve got great taste, based on what I heard so far.” Jim picked up the fork and stabbed one of the remaining chunks on his plate.

“Thanks. Most of those I bought years ago. Didn’t bother to replace them.”

John Hiatt’s voice slowly faded and the crackling of the fire came into focus. Jim brought the fork to his lips, and then tugged on its end, chewing slowly. Leonard was running a finger down the rim of his mug, appearing deep in thought.

“It’s not the same. You know?” He said quietly.

Jim assumed he must be talking about his family.

“Yeah.” He glanced around the room, noting the lack of decoration once again. “The holidays, especially, I guess.”

Leonard snorted through a chuckle.

“Yeah.”

Jim looked at him for another moment.

“I’m really grateful for what you did for me, you know.”

Leonard looked up.

“Don’t give it more meaning than there is, kid. Anyone with half a mind would’ve done the same.”

“I don’t think so,” Jim said. “And even if that was true, I don’t think I would’ve gotten much more than a crib under the stairs and a promise to call the police if I’m not out by morning.”

“People are not… generally… bad, Jim.” Leonard said slowly, elbows resting on his knees. “Nobody would kick you out during this weather.”

“You’re speaking from your own point of view,” Jim said, picking up his mug. “That’s not how the world works.” He drank for a moment or two. “But that’s beside the point, anyway. I wanted to say that… I felt lucky for stumbling upon your house, of all.”

Leonard appeared uncomfortable in his own clothes. Perhaps in his skin, too.

“No, don’t start squirming.” Jim put a hand on the man’s knee. “You become agitated every time I pay you a compliment. I wouldn’t say them if I didn’t mean them.” His gaze alternated between the two brown orbs of Leonard’s eyes, hoping he seemed sincere. The darkness that slowly settled on the town left fire to deal with the need for light, and right now, it reflected off Leonard in a soft, orange glow.

A scowl pressed the handsome features of his host and Jim concluded it must’ve been a default expression for him, set to fend off each and every emotion that might try to push through. The air thickened, and in the background, a woman sang about being afraid of the dark and loneliness.

Jim was aware that his hand had overstayed its welcome, but for reasons he didn’t want to confront, he pretended not to notice.

“There is no hotel I would feel this comfortable in.” He said quietly, raising his eyebrows. “And you can say whatever you want about coziness, but I don’t think it was your wife that made this place what it is. She’s not here now, is she?”

Jim must’ve inched closer over time, because he could feel the heat radiating from the other man.

Leonard’s expression was unreadable.

Jim wanted to know what he thought, and subsequently, what he felt. There was a strong pull he had felt soon after coming into this house for the first time, and it was toward this man. He didn’t know why. There wasn’t a friend, lover or a coworker that he felt this strongly drawn to, and the thought frightened him. The thought of being this drawn to a man frightened him even more. As flirty and open minded as he was about himself and his own life, the apprehension of entering a new territory was bound to scare him.

But above fear, it excited him.

Breath shallow and heart hammering, Jim wanted to dive into whatever Leonard had to dish out.

So when Leonard cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair, Jim felt an anvil-sized disappointment settle into his stomach. There was relief, too, but he couldn’t appease the curiosity that waited under the surface.

“I should get these washed before the crust forms.” A hoarse voice said. Leonard picked up the plates and scurried off to the kitchen.

Jim sagged in the armchair, muscles tight and heart slapping back and forth. He leaned forward on his knees and rubbed his face with a groan. Picking up both mugs, he handed them over to Leonard, who met him halfway – gaze somewhere on the dishes.

Kneading his mouth with irritation, Jim stood up and pulled his jeans higher up his hips.

“If you need my help, I’ll—”

“I got it, thanks.” Leonard cut him off, carelessly wiping the coffee table with a washcloth before disappearing into the kitchen.

“Okay, then. I’m… off to bed.” Jim finished regretfully, walking toward his room before he could look at Leonard’s face.

Once inside, he closed the door behind him and rested both hands on his knees. Sweeping hair off his forehead with one hand, he inhaled a lungful of air and banged through the bathroom door. Making a quick work of showering and brushing his teeth, he was under the covers in no time.

The disappointment and confusion he felt kept him awake for the better part of the night, leaving only for brief instances in which he found himself drifting off into shallow sleep, only to wake up and do it all over again.

 

*

 

When a hard hit broke the thin crust of sleep that stretched over his eyes, Jim cursed and rubbed his forehead. He rolled away from the offensive nightstand and groaned, dropping his head back into the nest he made.

His brain conveniently reminded him that it was Monday, and the thought itself made Jim’s mood deteriorate before he had a chance to get out of bed. Yanking the borrowed clothes on his limbs, he brushed the toilet cup and water in passing, focusing on other things instead.

Leonard obviously had an issue with wherever Jim was preparing to go last night, and Jim would be lying if he said it didn’t sting. It wasn’t his first rejection, and certainly not the most significant one, but for some inexplicable reason, Jim had begun thinking certain thoughts about the man, and the blowout of the scenario he had in mind didn’t sit well with him.

Clearly, thinking about it was a mistake in itself.

“Morning,” He mumbled as he spotted Leonard on the couch, sipping coffee. He received a nod in return, before Leonard cleared his throat.

“You want coffee?”

Scratching his belly, Jim was on the verge of declining, but a weak ‘yeah’ left his mouth instead. Leonard gestured him over and Jim slowly walked toward the living room.

“Lis’n… um, I believe you said the mechanic was coming here today, so, I was wondering if you could point me in the right direction.”

The rim of the cup parted from Leonard’s mouth. An unidentifiable expression passed his face.

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat again, eyebrows knitting. “It’s, uh… I’ll take you there.”

“No, there’s no need to bother. Just tell me where he is and I’ll find him myself,” Jim said, trying to sound nonchalant.

Leonard placed the mug down and stood up.

“I’ll take you there,” he repeated. “You’ll need reference.”

Jim’s mouth rounded as he watched the man disappear in the direction of the bedrooms.

“Sure,” he said to himself, making his way over to the sofa.

When Leonard emerged a few minutes later, Jim stared at him in mild surprise.

“Wha—now? You wanna go _now_?”

Leonard shrugged with one broad shoulder, already wrapped in a large winter jacket.

“Yeah. You wanna go home, right?” He said, wrapping a dark purple scarf around his neck. His expressions were once again reduced to a series of frowns and Jim felt his insides sink an inch.

“Sure,” he mumbled under breath, disappointed and slightly offended at the speed with which Leonard wanted to get rid of him. “Let me just get dressed.”

He passed the man and went inside his bedroom, ears ringing all the while.

Going home. That was what he’d been waiting all this time. Right?

With lead-plated feet, Jim dressed up and closed the door on his way out. He yanked on a dark blue cap and stuffed both hands into his overcoat’s pockets.

“All set,” He told Leonard with a small shrug.

“Good,” A set of eyebrows rose briefly as if to clean up the previous expression, and Jim followed the man outside.

 

First time since he strayed into this town, Jim felt grateful for the obnoxious wind. At the moment, its howling was the only thing that saved him from talking. If he opened his mouth, he knew he’d say things—or worse, _ask_ things—and that was a wrong route to take. So he walked alongside Leonard; both of them quiet save for a hitched breath every now and then. Snow squeaked under their boots, fresh and bone-chilling.

The mechanic lived nearby, approximately six or seven houses down the street – Jim counted, having no wiser way of surviving the uncomfortable silence – and he realized he could’ve found him on his own, had Leonard let him. Determined to stay in control as much as he could, Jim averted his mind from the topic and focused on the task at hand.

Leonard banged a large round piece against the mahogany door, and no less than half a minute later, a wiry man with a fur hat and an equally fuzzy coat appeared.

“Awright! What can I do for ye, Leonard?”

“Hey, Scotty.” A lopsided smile briefly appeared on Leonard’s face. “You workin’ today?”

The man sniffed, then wiped condensation off his nose.

“Aye, totally. What do ye need?”

Jim sucked in his frozen lips, glancing over at Leonard, who avoided eye-contact.

“This is my friend, Jim. He’s got a car down the street and he’s eager to get home, so would you mind checking it out?” Jim was taken aback at the sarcastic sub tone of the sentence, but Leonard continued talking. “It’s been under since Saturday. You think you can do something about it?”

“Sure, sure… I have to see it first.” He shooed them from the door with his hands, closing the door behind him. “Ma heatin’ went to hell. In case yer wonderin’ why I look like a causey lassie.”

Leonard smiled to humor the man.

“The question did cross my mind.”

The three of them proceeded down the street, side by side. A step later, the man stuck his hand out into Jim’s chest.

“Montgomery. Nice to make yer acquaintance. Ever’body calls me Scotty, though.”

Jim blinked and shook the offered hand.

“Jim. Pleasure’s mine.”

“Say, what do ye have?”

“Uh… Audi.” Jim pulled the cap tighter over his head. “Two months old.”

Scotty nodded with a murmur.

“Already goosed? That’s supposed to be a good machine.”

Jim made an unimpressed mumble, lips curling.

“If it were, I wouldn’t be asking for your help, would I?”

“True.”

They walked a few steps in silence, before Scotty started rambling again.

“Hey, uh, I think you can manage without me from this point on,” Leonard interjected, stepping aside with a thumb pointed at his house.

“Aye, ye go ahead,” Scotty assured him.

Jim squinted at Leonard, trying to catch his gaze, but the man already turned around and headed toward his door.

“Is he always…” Jim started, eyes still on Leonard’s back.

“Cranky?” Scotty resumed walking. “He is a sweet lad, but he doesnae let it show.”

“I noticed that.” He murmured, following the man. Scotty gestured ahead, and Jim pointed at his car across the road.

“Looks good with the snow, aye?”

They trudged through and over the road and Scotty immediately set to scraping the thick deposits off the vehicle’s hood.

“Fire it up, will ye?” He said, knocking on the polished metal. Jim pulled the key out of his pocket and wiped the receiving point clear, then tried remotely unlocking the car. When that didn’t work, he stuck the key in and turned.

“What’s it look like?” He asked after several minutes of watching Scotty tinker with the vehicle’s insides.

An unconvinced moan came from the hood.

“Och, laddie. This is gonna take a while.” A pink skinned head appeared on one side. Scotty pushed the fur hat off his eye, where it had slid to. “It's been frozen for two days. Ye can’t expect miracles.”

Jim nodded, unsure of how to receive that information.

“It's gonnae tak’ at least a day,” Scotty informed him grimly. His expressive face reflected sympathy.

Jim nodded once again, slowly.

“Although, yer a mate of Leonard’s... I might be able to do it in half that time.”

When Jim glanced at him, Scotty winked.

“Wh—that’d be great. Thanks.” He let out half a smile, squinting against the warm clusters of air leaving his mouth. “Do you need any tools or stuff?”

“Of coorse! Come with me.” Scotty said, slamming the hood down and climbing up a step to reach the road.

 

*

 

The process of sitting behind the wheel and following Scotty’s orders wasn’t particularly amusing, but it still beat the hell out of being whipped by the wind.

Jim checked his phone.

Especially after several hours. Despite being in fingerless gloves, Scotty’s hands radiated pink and his face wasn’t in any better condition.

“You sure you don’t wanna take a break? …I’ve got a candy bar here.”

Jim glanced at the product briefly, then murmured: “Can’t guarantee for its expiration date, though.”

Scotty clicked his tongue, upper body swallowed by the car.

“I’m sure ye need it more than I do.” He called out. “Judging by the way yer tummy howls.”

Jim rolled his eyes at the amusement in Scotty’s voice, tossing the candy bar to the passenger’s seat.

“I’ve got heat, too, but I suppose you want _me_ to take that as well.”

“Actually, I’d prefer if ye didn’t use the battery, laddie. Who knows how long this will take.”

“Got it,” he confirmed, leaning back in his seat.

 

Conversation halted, Jim’s mind strayed.

About two days earlier, he would’ve happily taken the opportunity to ride out of a town like this, especially during this weather. The mere thought of being stuck in a small, forgotten resort scared the shit outta him, so he always chose the big city. Regardless of how stinky or overcrowded it was, you could always hide in the crowd. Two days ago, he would’ve laughed at someone who lived, or wanted to stay in a place like this.

Today, he wasn’t any closer to warming up to the small town. But the thought of being in it didn’t appear quite as gloomy as before.

And the thought of that confused and infuriated him.

Leonard was a stranger. A young man with a mind of an old one. He was a doctor and he had a kid. Aside from that, Jim didn’t know much about him.

He didn’t need to, either. He had met grumpier and prettier and smarter people before.

So who cared about Leonard, anyway? He wasn’t that funny, either. He was only bitter about his life. And in all fairness, bitterness was only funny from a point of a bystander.

He wasn’t supposed to be even considering this.

Jim groaned and rubbed his face with both hands.

“I’ve got it!” Scotty exclaimed. “Tis as good as new!”

Jim jerked as the hood slammed down. He pulled the cap tighter around his head and peeked out at Scotty.

“Yeah?”

“Try it out,” Scotty said excitedly, wiping a dark smudge from his cheek.

Jim started the ignition, releasing a pleasant hum from the engine. His lips tugged upward and he glanced at the other man through the glass.

“This is great.” He grinned. “Scotty, you did it.”

The man nodded vigorously, almost as if this was his first job-well-done.

“This is great!” Jim repeated, turning off the engine. He got out of the car and embraced Scotty, who returned the gesture. “How much do I owe you, man?”

“Nuthin’. Yer Leonard’s lad.” Scotty smiled, tipping his hat straight. “If ye wanna repay me, ye could just advertise me a wee bit.” He gestured with his fingers.

Jim smiled and squeezed his shoulder.

“You got it.”

“Oh, ye wanna go to Leonard’s to tell him the good speirins?”

Jim glanced at the car, taking a small inhale.

“No… No need.” He patted Scotty’s back. “I’ll tell him myself.”

“Alright 'en. I’m gonna go home. I need a proper shower and somethin’ to eat.”

“Yeah. I’ll see you later, man. Thanks again,” Jim added when Scotty turned around. He watched him trudge down the snow covered street for minutes, until he eventually reached his house.

Jim dropped his ass to the side of the car and let the mid-day wind beat his cheeks.


	4. IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was nothing pleasant about saying goodbye, especially when it was laced with a layer of unfinished sentences. Those same unspoken thoughts still hung in the air while people tried to say succinct and distant final words, and they only faded once people went apart.
> 
> It sucked. And Jim was facing one such scenario.

There was nothing pleasant about saying goodbye, especially when it was laced with a layer of unfinished sentences. Those same unspoken thoughts still hung in the air while people tried to say succinct and distant final words, and they only faded once people went apart.

It sucked. And Jim was facing one such scenario.

He had checked his phone while he was leaning on his car – once, to see what time it was – and ended up focusing on his battery, which was almost empty.

He had checked his phone again, and realized he had been rooted in the same spot for nearly an hour – backside frozen and face numb.

There was nothing pleasant in knocking on Leonard’s door, either. What waited for him once it opened couldn’t be good, no matter how estranged and artificially kind Leonard might appear.

Fortunately, what came to greet Jim was a voice.

_“It’s open!”_

Jim pushed the doorknob and seeped into the house.

Leonard was sitting on his haunches on the floor, tossing logs into the fire. He glanced up at Jim as he entered, then focused his attention on the task at hand again.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Jim replied, closing the door behind him. The warmth of the air slowly melted the toughest parts of his face, struggling to fill his nose and cheeks.

“How did it go?”

Leonard picked up the metal poker and readjusted the logs that weren’t getting enough heat. He moved his hand back and watched the flames lick the wood for a few moments.

Jim’s throat tightened.

“Scotty… Scotty’s good.”

Leonard glanced at him.

“Of course he is. That’s why I took you to him.” He proceeded to poke the logs.

Jim’s nostrils stretched as he inhaled quietly.

“He, uh… he said it could take a while.” His tongue swept out to wet his lips. “The car’s been under the snow for two days and… the wires are damp and frozen. Some of them are broken.” He added, inhaling loudly and visibly this time. He pulled his jeans higher.

Leonard’s eyes focused on him. The hand with the poker came to rest on his thigh.

“Really? That’s bad.” He frowned. “Isn’t it?”

Jim’s eyelids were shriveled back from the cold, making his eyes dry and his every blink a struggle. His mouth opened before he had words prepared.

“Yeah… yeah. Um—”

“Is there anything he can do?” Leonard asked; attention back on the fire. There was absolutely nothing in his voice or gaze that could indicate what he thought or felt at that moment.

That fact kept Jim from coming deeper into the room. He stayed rooted in place, trying to read Leonard’s body language from afar.

Two dark eyes focused on him.

“So?”

“Y—what?” Jim blinked.

One of Leonard’s eyebrows rose briefly.

“Is there anything he can do about it?” He repeated.

“Oh. Uh, not at the moment,” Jim answered, head tilting to the side briefly. His heart was racing and the feeling finally returned to his cheeks and hands. “He’s gonna have to work on it for a few days,” He said with a serious expression.

Leonard popped a few splinters into the fire.

“I hope that’s okay with you, I mean.” Jim added, raising his eyebrows.

Leonard didn’t reply, which made Jim swallow the little saliva he had in his mouth.

He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment he chose to lie, but he knew it must’ve been a quick and careless decision, judging by the fact that merely minutes before he stood outside the door lamenting his impending future.

But the words were out, and there was nothing he could do to pull them back now.

Leonard rose from his position on the floor and left the poker by the fireplace. He rubbed his palms together to shake off the soot, and then walked across the room. He stopped once he was directly in front of Jim, and for once, Jim could finally see the man clearly. His eyes were slightly bloodshot and his nostrils wide. The full bottom lip was now a tight line and Leonard seemed to be clenching his jaw every few moments.

Eventually, he opened his mouth; voice quiet and tight.

“I spoke to Scotty.”

Breath escaped Jim’s lungs and he felt weight worthy of an anvil on his chest. He opened his mouth to say something – feign ignorance perhaps – but nothing came out.

Leonard was looking at him with an indecipherable gaze.

Jim opened his mouth once again.

“Shit,” he eventually whispered, supporting his head with several fingers. “I’m sorry, man. I—” He yanked the cap off his head, leaving a nest of hair behind. “I didn’t mean to lie—and I didn’t mean to take advantage of your hospitality, I swear. I just—” He swept a palm over his eyes. “Alright. Shit. I can’t believe I did this.” He mumbled. “I’ll just pick up my clothes and leave. I’m—” He looked at Leonard again. “I’m really sorry.”

When he took half a step to leave, a hand on his arm stopped him.

Jim glanced up, lips parted in slight surprise.

“Why?” Came a tight-lipped question.

Jim twisted back into his previous place.

“I—why what?” He asked quietly.

Leonard’s gaze slid down to Jim’s eyes again.

“Why tell me it’s still broken?”

Jim took a strangled breath. His heart was slapping back and forth in his chest. He swore he could hear it, loud and clear.

He ran a hand through his messed up hair.

“To be honest, I don’t know.” Jim licked his lips again; gaze somewhere on Leonard’s shoulder and over it. Every word he squeezed out was draining his energy. “I came here with the intention of saying goodbye, and then I have no idea what happened. I just—I do know I didn’t want to leave. Not yesterday, not today.” He looked Leonard in the eyes. “I knew I had to, but… fuck it, man. I’m not good with this,” he said, crumpling the cap in his hand.

Leonard was looking at him, and – ironically – this time there were countless expressions on his face, but Jim couldn’t decipher either one of them.

“Can we not do this?” Jim asked. “I did the wrong thing and I’m fully aware of it, but, can we just skip this part? I suck at this kinda thing, and let’s be honest – neither of us needs more shit. So I’ll just go my way and you can… go yours or whatever. I’ll pay you for all the expenses I made.”

“If I hadn’t spoken to Scotty,” Leonard started, ignoring the last suggestion. His breathing was harsher than Jim would’ve expected. “How long would you have stayed here?”

Jim’s mouth opened.

There was no point in lying.

“Honestly?” He sucked in his upper lip, then released it. “Probably as long as I could’ve dragged out the lie, without being suspicious. I mean, consciously, I would’ve never believed I was cut out for blatant deceit, but I don’t know what happened, man. There’s something about you—I just—I’m sorry, but you wanted honest. The truth is that I would’ve dragged it on. For as long as—”

The sentence drowned in his mouth as his back slammed against the door, head bouncing off it. Cap outta his hand, he moaned and realized Leonard was kissing him.

Time froze and all the thoughts he had went off the rails. Leonard was _kissing_ him. For fuck’s sake, when his head snapped against the door, he thought he was in for the beating of his life. Not… this.

Jim’s moans drowned in both their mouths as Leonard’s body held him up against the door. Hands slid under the layers of his clothing to cup Jim’s face.

The lips on his own were soft, but their actions harsh.

Jim couldn’t breathe.

His blood was boiling and his skin itching under the thick clothes.

Leonard unglued his face from Jim’s, a thin thread of saliva still connecting their mouths for a moment. Wide hazel eyes stared at him. Leonard’s pupils were blown and Jim was sure his own held the same look.

“Shit,” he whispered eventually, not breaking eye-contact. His arms were resting on Leonard’s sides, clenched tight. “Shit,” He repeated, not letting go.

“You wanted to stay,” Leonard croaked out eventually, as if trying to explain his actions and justify himself at the same time.

“I…” Jim’s lips were parted and his breath discontinuous. He swallowed tightly and opened his mouth again. Words flew out without his consent. “Maybe I should just leave, we’re—”

“Goddammit, kid.” Leonard growled. He was panting just as much as Jim was. “Have you thought for a second that maybe I don’t want you to leave?”

“You—but…” Somewhere inside of Jim, happy thoughts blossomed at that confession. But outside, he was frozen in surprise.

“Look.” Leonard swallowed and licked his lips. “Don’t fuck with me here, alright? Is the reason you wanted to stay the one I think it is?” He stared at Jim in expectation. “Because if I just planted one on someone who’s just about to tell me it was a big misunderstanding, then fu—”

“No,” Jim shook his head tightly, maintaining eye contact. His hands came up to Leonard’s chest and clutched his sweater. “You understood well.”

They stared at each other for another moment, warm clouds of air coming out and kicking against each other’s faces. Jim slowly leaned in and kissed him. Leonard inhaled and parted his lips, allowing access. Jim touched the tip of his tongue to Leonard’s and drew him closer, feeling the arms around him tighten in response.

Heat pooled in the pit of Jim’s stomach and he reluctantly pulled himself apart, staring at Leonard in a daze.

“I’m glad you slammed me against the door – even though my back isn’t – because I’ve wanted to do this for some time now.”

Leonard held him in a tight embrace, gaze switching between Jim’s eyes and his swollen lips.

“Then keep doing it.”

Jim leaned in, licked Leonard’s upper lip and then slid his tongue inside. He swallowed the man’s moan and nudged him backwards, until Leonard’s legs stumbled upon the coffee table and they toppled onto it with little elegance. There was a cracking sound and the room was soaked in pleasant guitar tones. Leonard grunted and Jim pulled away, arms still on either side of Leonard’s body.

“Is that…” He frowned, watching Leonard pull the remote controller from beneath his ass. His expression straightened and warmth spread through his chest at the realization. “Were you listening to John Hiatt? Before I came here?”

“No,” Leonard said, eyebrows high.

Jim grinned and pushed forward, wriggling until Leonard was fully sitting on the table, with Jim in his lap.

“You were.”

“Even if I was, what difference does it make? It’s my goddamn disc. I can—”

Jim swallowed the rest of that sentence, wrapping his arms around Leonard’s neck. He swore he could hear curses pouring into the kiss.

“Goddammit,” Leonard murmured once they unglued from each other.

“So,” Jim cleared his throat, shifting his weight so that he was on Leonard’s thighs. “I have to get back to my job… now that my car is working.”

Leonard looked at him for a few moments, and then nodded.

“Yeah.”

Jim’s breathing returned to normal and he observed the other man’s face.

“But it’s dangerous to drive under these conditions. Right?” He sent his eyebrows up. “And I have no way of letting my boss know I’m stuck, because I have no service…”

“Yeah.” Leonard’s eyes woke up and he tilted his head. “The network’s still out.”

“So…” Jim crumpled the sweater in his hand and scrunched up his brow. “If I were to stay here for another few days… would that sit well with you?”

Leonard breathed through his nose, not saying anything. His hands splayed on Jim’s back and he pulled him tighter up his lap. Warm hazel eyes climbed up to Jim’s face.

“That’d be great, kid.”

 

 

The END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I crippled the Scottish dialect/accent, do let me know. 
> 
> Also, thank you for sticking till the end! Hope you enjoyed the story. :)
> 
> P.S. Hit me in a private/comment section if you wanna know the songs that played on Leonard's stereo. The particular one they mentioned a couple of times was John Hiatt's Icy Blue Heart.


End file.
